Moments
by Escagirl
Summary: A series of Eyeshield 21 drabbles. Rated M for future updates. Heh, just remembered, there will be yaoi in some of these drabbles. Sorry, I forgot to mention that! Minor crossovers mentioned, also.
1. Blood

Moments

by EscagirlUK

Disclaimer: I do not own Eyeshield 21 or any characters or situations therein.

Blood

The mug shattered in her hands. Due to her work, Yoko had not been able to make it to the Shinryuji Naga-Deimon Devilbat American Football game. But she was watching the match on her hotel room's television.

Calmly, she mopped up the spilled coffee. Then she slid her hand into her pocket and pulled out a slim red mobile phone, flipping it open with a flick of her long, talon-like fingernails. The woman quickly typed in a series of numbers and brought the phone to her ear.

"I wish to know _everything_ about one Kongo Agon of the Shinryuji Naga Amefuto team," she said in a calm, chilling tone. "I expect a full work-up by tomorrow morning."

That said, she closed the phone, cancelling the call, and turned her attention back to the television. Green eyes narrowed as they homed in on the Devilbats Captain and lineback, noting the traces of blood smeared on the blonde boy's face.

Kongo Agon would _rue_ the day he made her son _**bleed**_.


	2. Puppy Love

Puppy Love

"Thank you, Jyuumonji-kun," Sena said, smiling brightly up at Jyuumonji as the other boy handed him a bottle of water. The slight blush on the dirty-blonde's face deepened, and the boy coughed.

"Well, we can't have you getting dehydrated," the ex-thug said, one hand rubbing the back of his neck as he suddenly became very self-conscious.

Sena finished his drink and set the bottle down on the bench. He stood up on his tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to Jyuumonji's cheek.

"Thank you, for doing all you can to protect me," Sena said softly, blushing furiously, and darting away to the training field.

Jyuumonji slid down to bonelessly kneel on the ground, face burning tomato red.

Nearby, Hiruma let out a quiet burst of cackles as he started redrawing some of his plots, and discarding others. It looked like Operation Closet may not be needed after all.


	3. Magic

Magic

AN: I have very little knowledge of airports, having been in only two, so please forgive any mistakes. Also, apparently "disembarkment" is not a word according to spell-checker. Not sure I trust that...

Hiruma leant against a wall in Narita International Airport, waiting for the passengers of the recently landed plane to leave the disembarkation lounge.

Eventually, a surge of people left the disembarkation area; amongst them was a short, dark-haired young man, who did not look much older than Hiruma, himself. He looked around, shading his eyes from the harsh light. Hiruma motioned the boy over.

The shorter boy waved to show he'd seen Hiruma, and dragged his baggage over, weaving through the crowd. He stopped in front of Hiruma, looking a little self-conscious, before straightening and lifting up his chin.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Cousin Youichi," he said, taking in the other boy's appearance - who bleached their eyebrows, anyway? Hiruma smirked, meeting the shorter boy's bright green eyes with his own dark green.

"Ah, it's good to finally meet you too, Cousin Harry."

Hiruma's team had often speculated that his ability to pull guns, and other things, out from nowhere had to be some kind of magic or demonic power.

They had no idea how true their speculations were.


	4. Gloves

Gloves

Monta held the catchers mitt of his baseball hero, Honjou, carefully and gently oiling the ageing leather surface. The glove of a catching god, it was his prized possession, his greatest treasure, and he did everything possible to keep it in good shape. He used it as an idol, to pray to the Catching Gods; for strength, and victory in the face of so many near-insurmountable odds.

But the monkey-like boy wondered; one day, would a future fan of his treat his own American football gloves with all the pride and care that he treated Honjou's baseball mitt?


	5. Superstition

Superstition

Hiruma Youichi. Founder and first captain of the Deimon Devil Bats. The blackmail loving, gun-wielding, sadistic Demon of Deimon.

They say, when you become captain of the Deimon Devil Bats, that a piece of Hiruma Youichi's soul possesses your body; corrupting what was once kind gentle people into psychopaths.

It's the only explanation anyone can think of, when every single Devil Bat captain takes up the blackmail, weaponry, and sadistic training routines of the original captain.

Takekura Shou barely refrained from face-palming at the ridiculously dangerous and risky plan that his best friend, running back, and team captain, was outlining to her alternately terrified and resigned team.

'But, then,' Shou mused, eyeing the old-fashioned AK-47 slung across the nearby bench; guarded by a large black dog, 'Hiruma Mai doesn't need to be possessed to be just as psychotic as her grandfather.'

The team huddled closer together, hands reaching out.

"We. Will. KILL! THEM! YA HA!" they all yelled, before breaking to take up the formation for the Deimon Devil Bats newest play, _Poltergeist_.


	6. Evidence

Evidence

The table before him was covered in files. Files stuffed full of photographs; of lists of hotels, dates, times, hotel staff names.

Dozens upon dozens of picture, paper, electronic, and digital evidence of all the things that the

principal and the rest of Deimon's school board absolutely would not want their wives, husbands, families, or co-workers to know about.

It was time to fucking **kill** Deimon's anti-club rule for third year students.

Because I refuse to believe that Hiruma, who **blackmails** practically _everybody_ into doing what he wants, would not use his evil powers to get Deimon to change their rule about no third years in clubs.


	7. Cry

Cry

It didn't happen until they were home, safely ensconced in their ultra high security estate.

They had barely got in and locked the door when Hiruma pulled Sena to him, burrowing his face into the retired running back's shoulders, and broke out into great heaving sobs of pain, anguish and frustration.

That no matter how much dirt he had in his Devil's Handbook, no matter how good with a gun or strategy or figuring out the perfect winning play; he still had not been able to save Jyuumonji.

Sena closed red eyes, clutching harder onto Hiruma, and also cried for their combined lover and unofficial husband of almost forty years.

Yip, in my little drabble series head-canon, Sena, Jyuumonji and Hiruma all got together.


End file.
